Capsized
by xxvioletskye
Summary: Captain Arthur Kirkland had lost everything. He was relieved from his position from the British army and exiled; betrayed by the only man he had ever loved. When his pirate ship was attacked by Spanish forces, Arthur knew he was done for. But instead of death, he meets a cheerful, caring, and unconventional Spanish captain—turning his world completely upside-down.
1. Tomatoes and Wine

**A/N: Ta-daa~ My second SpUk fic. Only this time, Spain gets to top! 8O *shocker* To those who are reading my other SpUk fic, "Cold Hands," don't worry, I'm not discontinuing it. In fact, I'll be out with the latest chapter within the week. This is just an introduction, sort of, so all the romantic bits will be yet to come. I'm a sucker for slow romantic developments _ Tell me what you think, ok? :3****  
**

**Genre: **Romance/Action/Drama/Comedy

**Pairing: **Conquistador!Spain x Pirate!Uk. Slight Spamano. Slight UsUk. Human AU, sort of.

**Rating: **R13 (T) For language and suggestive themes. Rating may go up. No wait, it will for the sake of hot Pirate sex.

~x~o~x~o~x~o~

Arthur parried his sword once more, doing his best to fend off the attacks of his opponent's captain. _Che..._ He thought, _I've heard of Captain Carriedo before, but I never thought he'd give me this much trouble!_ And it was true; He had heard tales of a fearsome pirate captain hailing from Spain. He'd disregarded the speculations on the new captain's skill for a long while now. That changed of course, as he now found himself under attack and losing the fight. _Damn it... If I had given him more credit, I'd have been better prepared! _He dodged another swing dealt by Carriedo, unknowing of the backlash of another failed swing behind him. He felt his vision blur and fade to black at the person behind him hit him with their sword's hilt.

_Where am I? _Arthur groaned, feeling as though he were swimming through a black smog. His lungs felt oddly heavy and he shifted slightly, feeling the beginnings of reaching out towards a light. He realized, somewhere in his rational mind, that this was the sort of thing that happened when one woke from a deep sleep, but he couldn't for the life of him remember going to bed... _What happened...? I was on the deck... I was attacked by Captain Carriedo. We were fighting and then... And then— _He interrupted his own thoughts as his eyes fluttered open, another low groan exiting his mouth along with a few curses. He lifted his head slowly, and almost instantly laid it back down. His head was pounding, as though someone was using it for a drum. He squeezed his eyes shut before slowly raising his head once more and opening his eyes.

He looked around and realized he was below deck on a ship. He knew it couldn't be his ship because the layout and contents of the room were unlike any he'd ever seen on his own vessel. He was in a tiny cell, the door locked tight and—_FUCKING GOD DAMMIT THAT SPANISH BASTARD MUST HAVE WON. BLOODY HELL._ The words echoed in his head like a siren. He groaned a third time, finding his inner voice much too loud for the headache pounding away at his temples. _Who the hell wins with a head shot? What kind of crew does this bloody git have?_ He knew it couldn't have been Captain Carriedo because, for one, he'd have seen it coming and dodged. And two, as begrudgingly hard as it was to say, the Spanish man he had been fighting seemed to fight fair. He groaned and slumped against the wall, when all of a sudden, a thickly-accented voice came from outside the cell.

"Hey you bastard, I brought some food, you should eat if you know whats good for you."

Arthur looked intently and found that someone who appeared to be the cabin boy—who was awfully small for a boy, in his opinion—approached the cell, holding a couple of tomatoes. He wasn't entirely sure what to think. The boy didn't sound Spanish, and didn't _look _Spanish as far as he could tell. Was he Italian, perhaps? All of a sudden in the middle of Arthur's thinking, the tomatoes were tossed into the cell and the boy opened his mouth yet again with a stream of insults.

"Geez, so much for the high and mighty supposedly scary ass British captain, now you're just in deep dog shit." The boy snapped as he smirked at the captain's unfortunate postion.

Arthur's eyes narrowed.

Now, in general, Arthur was a rather patient man. He could handle drunkenness, annoyingly upbeat people—you name it. But rude, disrespectful people were a peeve of his. The traits combined... made his skin crawl. He kept his face stoic as he bent down and picked up a tomato. He tossed it up and down a couple of times before dropping it and lunging towards the brunette, hands and arms flying between the bars and grabbing him by his collar. He yanked him forward so their faces were close.

"Now you listen here you piece of _shit_. You need to learn to respect your superiors. Your captain may have taken me, but that doesn't mean I can't hurt you. If I wanted to, I could kill you right now. I could slam your head against these bars until you're brain dead. I could snap your neck boy." He hissed, "And 'if _you_ know what's good for you,'" He said, using the green-eyed boy's words against him, "I wouldn't stand close enough to the bars to be grabbed by a dangerous pirate." He shoved the boy backwards as hard as he could and was thoroughly satisfied when he landed hard on his butt. "Scram kid, and I wouldn't come back, if I were you."

"What-the-fuck-ever bastardo, you don't scare me, I saw the fight, you got knocked out by some random guy, you can try and bang my head against the bars but I'll make sure to rip your fucking hand off before I'm dead." The cabin boy yelled at him from the ground, scrambling to his feet and picking up a tomato and threw it with all his might right into Arthur's face. The boy's lips curled into a smirk when the tomato gave a satisfing squishing sound as it smashed against his face, slowly sliding off revealing a very angry Brit. Arthur was clearly not amused.

The boy quickly backed away from bars soon after, however, to avoid being grabbed again as he picked up another tomato, this time throwing it at the pirate's chest, yet again hitting it's mark.

"Why you little—"

"No, you listen here stupido!" The boy interrupted Arthur before he could get to speak. "You're a prisoner here on the ship so you don't get to threaten people, you should be lucky that the tomato bastard even kept you alive. If I were him I would've killed you on the spot you caterpillar eye-browed freak!"

The boy yelled as he produced a throwing knife, twirling the knife threateningly at Arthur. As a feared pirate, Arthur wouldn't usually be bothered, but in his compromised state, he didn't know how he could fight back. He discreetly searched his pockets and realized that he was stripped of his pistol and his knives, which was to be expected. _To be killed by an angry cabin boy, how low have I sunk? _Arthur laughed in spite of himself, not backing away from the bars.

_Why _did_ the captain keep me alive?_

~x~o~x~o~x~o~

"_VIVA ESPANA! VIVA ESPANA!"_ Antonio was on deck, celebrating with his crew as they chanted the words victoriously. He held up his sword with one hand, and in the other a wine glass. "This victory is for all of us, and for our motherland Spain. To celebrate, everyone will have our finest wine tonight!" he brought the wine glass to his lips, and upon finishing it smashed it to the ground. His crew members all cheered around him, and started making a ruckus on deck. Everyone was happily passing around drinks, and telling each other of their own experiences during the fight. Antonio made his way through the crowd, randomly grabbing people's drinks and then consuming them, going around to make sure everyone was having a good time. His crew members didn't mind however, because well… he was the captain.

After a few rounds, he decided to go to the pirate's cabin to relax and think of his next plan of action.

_So I have the Brit now in my clutches..._ he thought, remembering how the other Captain had been defeated. He stared upon a blank piece of paper, and a quill trying to jot down his ideas, but to no avail. _This is no good._ He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to refresh his mind. The alcohol had started to take effect, and he wasn't thinking straight anymore. _I might as well visit our prisoner, and get some information from him. _With that, he grabbed a bottle of wine supposedly to share with the Brit. Though he was a prisoner, he was still a guest on his ship and he had to show him some hospitality. He then made his way down below deck, trying not to stumble as he walked.

"H-hey what's going on there?" he said, hearing voices from one of the cells. From afar, he could see his cabin boy seemingly arguing with the prisoner.

Antonio brought his palm to his face, as he looked at the scene before him. "Ai ai ai~" Lovino, his cabin boy and the prisoner Captain Kirkland seemed to be fighting. Since it was Lovino he sent down, somehow he was't too surprised. This was the first time he'd seen such a grand fight that came from either side of the cell bars, however.

"Uhm… hola~?" Antonio said, trying to get the attention of the two. When this didn't work, he tried poking Lovino on the arm. "U-uhm Lovino…" he said, still not being heard. He then tried to poke the prisoner who was pressed against the railings, but even he didn't seem to notice his presence. He sighed, and felt like he had no choice but to take one of them by force. He swiftly grabbed Lovino by the collar, and dragged him away from the cell. "Lo siento, Captain Kirkland." He said, shouting over Lovino's shoulder. "I will just have a word with him, ok? It looks like you have been well acquainted."

He then turned his attention to Lovino, who still seemed rather upset. "Hey Lovino, what is the matter?" he said, holding up the other's face gently so that their eyes would meet. "I just gave you the simple task of giving our prisoner food, why did you go and declare war on him or something?" he sighed, and started picking up some tomatoes that fell on the ground.

Lovino glared at his captain. "You should have killed him or we should at least turn him in for money, Captain Kirkland has a huge price on his head, why keep such an annoying British bastard like him!" Lovino yelled, stomping his foot and smashing a tomato in the process. "If he gets out he'll only try to kill some of the other crew, you or escape, besides you know you didn't even beat him fair and square right?" Lovino said crossing his arms with a scowl on his face.

"L-lovino? What are you talking about?" Antonio smiled and laughed nervously, seeing that Lovino had known the truth behind the fight. Though he had no plan on keeping it a secret, really, it would be rather embarrassing if news as to how the British Captain was defeated.

"Ah! I see why you really won't kill him!" Lovino continued, barely paying attention to Antonio. "You're too 'honorable' to kill a man you didn't beat but I guess that didn't stop you from taking all the credit huh? Tch, so you're also going to drink with him, what do you plan on doing? Getting him drunk and getting information out of him? If he's as high-ranked as you say he is then he probably won't fall for it stupid tomato-head, " Lovino grumbled as he pocketed his throwing knife.

Antonio sighed and shook his head. "I will make sure he gets the proper recognition, but remember this was done as a team. We conquered that ship as one unit, there's no such thing as just one person taking all the credit you know~? Do you see me partying by myself? No! When you go on deck you will see that everyone is celebrating because this is a victory for all of us... for Mother Espana! And since you're part of the family now, it's your victory too." he said, then patting Lovino's head. "Oh, what am I saying? I guess you are just too young to understand. And I didn't bring him wine for that purpose, idiota. I'm not that despicable." He was getting tired of arguing with Lovino, so he just let Lovino say whatever he wanted, and waited until he finally decided to follow orders and get on deck.

"I won't tell anybody for now that you didn't beat the British bastard but watch yourself down here with him tomato bastard, or he'll squish your head into bars like he tried to do with me." Lovino said as he started to walk back up to the top of ship to go be with the rest of the crew but then paused looking back at Antonio, "Pft, then you really would be a tomato head, a squashed one though." Lovino remarked as he resumed his climb back up the stairs, still grumbling to himself.

Antonio finally turned his attention to the prisoner, walking in his direction. "That boy is a real handful." He murmured and slowly approached Arthur, with one hand in his pocket and the other holding up the bottle of wine. "Like I said earlier, I'm really sorry that was the welcome you got on this ship. I assure you though, that we Spaniards are very different." he said, then getting close enough to be able to eye the other man completely. "Oh by the way, I forgot to formally introduce myself." Antonio removed his hat, and bowed before Arthur. "My name is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo—captain of this ship and commander of the Armada... at your service."

~x~o~x~o~x~o~

* * *

**A/N: That's all for now :3 Do you think Antonio and Arthur will get along? Well, obviously Lovino and Arthur didn't XD Btw before I forget, I must reveal something. This was actually co-written with me by my lovely girl and RP partner, Callie who plays an amazing England. *Gasp* I feel so lucky :3 (Obviously I was Spain, so yeah.) And oh, my friend Julia also makes a guest appearance as Romano. I edited this quite a lot, however, to fashion it into one big fanfiction. Fusososo~ Please do tell me what you think, and I will get the next chapter out as soon as I can. Gracias, amigo~!**

******Edit: Thanks to Tamagoakura for pointing the lack of need for Romano's accent :D Yeah, now that I think about it, it wasn't such a good idea :P**


	2. Into the night

~x~o~x~o~x~o~

Arthur listened to the two men whispering on the other side of the room, near the door. He couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, only catching a few words every now and again. The taller man appeared to be close with the small one; rather, the smaller boy seemed to be important enough to the captain that he could mouth off without punishment. Arthur scoffed at the thought—there was no way he would ever let a member of his crew talk to him (or anyone else for that matter) in the manner that the brunette had spoken. He shifted slightly once he'd finished cleaning the tomato splatter off his face, wiping the juice onto his trousers. When he looked back up, the younger boy appeared to be a bit upset—or was it worried?—before he stormed upstairs, tossing a few words over his shoulder.

As the Spanish captain approached him with a bottle of wine, Arthur narrowed his eyes. _Wine? How stupid does the git think I am? One mistake and suddenly all my credit goes to crap... Tch._ He raised an eyebrow at the other's introduction and nearly flashed a look of surprise when he realized how sincere the other sounded. He would've expected a more... offensive greeting. However, he kept himself calm, a blank expression on his face. He merely replied, "What kind of captain lets his crew talk to him in such a matter?" Arthur crossed his arms over his chest, but begrudgingly bowed back, "And I am Arthur Kirkland, captain of the ship you so rudely invaded and destroyed for no reason yesterday."

"What kind of captain?" The other captain laughed and leaned over, resting his left forearm against the rails. "That would be the captain that ransacked your ship... _amigo_."

Arthur furrowed his brow at the mocking tone in the other's voice, his eyes darting an angry look. _You won't be smiling like that once I get my hands on you, you bloody git. _He looked at the Spaniard bitterly, thinking of a way to somehow attack him, or at least incapacitate him in such a way that he could get the keys and make an escape. It still weighed heavy on his heart that the outcome had been what it was. After all, he had been undefeated thus far. He never thought he'd see the day where someone else would best him with the sword.

"I let the boy off easy because he's a kid that doesn't know any better. I don't just let any other member of my crew, or anyone else for that matter speak to me that way, you know?" Antonio continued, not taking his eyes off Arthur. "But in any case, it's good to finally meet you Captain Kirkland, it seems like our swords did the introducing for us yesterday."

Arthur rolled his eyes and replied through gritted teeth. "I wish I could share the same sentiments... _captain._"

Antonio laughed. "I am sorry for taking you by surprise, but that's the way it is. You are probably aware of the situation between our countries now." The Spanish captain unscrewed the cork off the wine bottle, and handed it through the railings. "Have some, straight from _Madeira._ I announced on deck earlier that everyone on this ship was to have the finest wine to celebrate. You are no exception."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, thinking over the other man's words and debating how to respond. Though he had come off as disrespectful, Arthur knew better than to underestimate the man standing before him. Antonio seemed rather spacey and foolish, but their encounter the previous day had proven otherwise. Behind that cheerful smile and mild demeanor was a fierce swordsman and commander—he had seen it for himself. Indeed there was a reason as to why the man that stood before him was _the_ feared Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Arthur would not make the mistake of underestimating his enemy, once again.

Arthur paused a moment in his thought, letting his eyes graze the Spaniard. It was the first time he had actually gotten the chance to take a good look at the man who had bested him. He was tall—certainly taller than himself—with bright olive green eyes. Shaggy, dark brown hair came down just past his ears and his skin was a shade of tan. He looked rather young to be a captain, in Arthur's opinion. What really struck Arthur, however, was the expression in the other's eyes. They were kind and sincere-looking, making him appear laid back and relaxed. It was rather... odd, for a captain.

"Do you like what you see?"

The Spanish captain laughed as Arthur quickly averted his eyes, heat spreading over his cheeks. The bastard had caught him staring.

"I-I will not drink wine. Water would be fine for celebration." Arthur replied, his eyes shifting uncomfortably. "I've been around the bend once or twice Captain Carriedo... I know better than to let you get me drunk." He paused, processing the other words the brunette man had spoken.

The other man took the wine back, taking a swig for himself. "Why is it that all of you think that's what I had in mind? Can't a man share a drink with another without any bad intention?"

"And _why—_pray tell—would you WANT to?" Arthur spat, glaring at the Spaniard in front of him. It infuriated him how nonchalantly the other offered him wine, conversing with him comfortably at such a time. _Is he really not taking me seriously? Why in bloody hell would he offer ME, his prisoner wine at a time like this, if not to get me drunk? It doesn't make sense. Obviously that bastard has something up his sleeve. _

The angry look in Arthur's face dropped, replaced by a look of confusion and concern, however, once he remembered one thing that the Spaniard had mentioned in passing. _What about Spain and England?_

"And... and what do you mean the situation between our countries?" Arthur looked up at Antonio, his eyes opening wide. It's been a while since he's heard news regarding the developing war between the two countries. He had no idea whether it had worsened, or somehow resolved itself in the time he was absent. "I haven't been in contact..." He looked a bit sheepish, looking down as he continued. "I broke a few laws and I'm more of a criminal than a British soldier..." He trailed off, admitting this with the thought that the information could do no harm. He shifted, feeling uncomfortable all of the sudden. He looked back up at the Spanish man, eyes meeting the pools of bright green.

"I'm surprised you don't know, seeing as you have a high position in the British army." Antonio looked at Arthur with a confused expression, not sure if he was trying to trick him or if he was telling the truth. "To keep things simple, you know how I am called the Conquistador, right?" he continued, then reaching into the cell and held Arthur's face up to his—staring straight into his emerald green eyes. "My next plan is to conquer your country, Arthur. And you, Captain will be my entrance ticket to get in."

"England is an utterly detestable place. And, in case my last comment wasn't clear enough; I'll be of no use to you." Arthur replied, looking away but not moving his face from the man's hand. _Warm..._ He thought as he shivered, the coldness and dampness of the cell getting to him. He was wearing nothing but a thin undershirt and his trousers; stripped of his trenchcoat. "I'm a wanted criminal in my own country as of a little over a year ago when I robbed a few of their ports blind." He had a bitter expression on his face as he remembered a certain blonde haired, blue eyed man whom he had trusted. _No, Don't think about that now... _He shook his head slightly, making the taller male drop his hand. He shrugged, walking to the back of the cell, as far as he could get from Antonio.

"Arthur... come back here." Antonio said, as his fingers dropped from Arthur's face. "Are you telling me... you're no longer a British officer?"

"Hasn't it sunk in yet?" Arthur spun around, his expression suddenly changing. "Listen up, you _git_. I'm a criminal. An outlaw, a marauder, a fugitive... you name it. If that doesn't make it clear enough, then let me get this straight. I'm a _pirate, _Captain Carriedo._"_ Arthur laughed, swinging his arm up._ "_Shiver me timbers, and give me yer peg-leg, love! Ring a bell?"

Antonio's expression darkened as he tightened his grip around the wine bottle; his eyes opening wide in disbelief. "But you wear the British uniform, and your ship bears the British sails. As far as I'm concerned you're Captain Arthur Kirkland, one of England's most efficient—_"_

_"Ha!_ The man that you know of was gone a good year ago, capitan. The man that you know is _dead. _All I am really now, is Arthur Kirkland. The despicable excuse of a man who takes advantage of his previous position to deceive people on ports along the British Isle. At. Your. Service." Arthur mockingly bowed once again, a smug smile spreading across his face. "I don't bloody care what you do, Captain Carriedo. But let me tell you; it won't be easy to invade my country." He chuckled, as bitterness entered his expression again, "That's not to say it's impossible. But I'm obviously not going to help you, you bloody Spanish bastard. That's as far as my kindness goes, I'm afraid. Now if you'll excuse me." He sat down in a pile of hay at the back of the cell, slowly starting to fashion some sort of bed out of it. He made it clear that this conversation was over. Or rather, he wouldn't be contributing to it anymore. He seemed a little frustrated and even more than that, and odd sadness colored his features once again. He sighed softly.

After hearing what Arthur had to say, however, Antonio stood in front of the cell quietly, lost in deep thought.

Antonio scanned the man curled up in the corner of the cell, not believing what he had just heard. He knew he was careless sometimes, but this was a big case of misinformation. All this time he thought that Captain Arthur Kirkland was going to be what would help him get to his goal—and that would be to invade Britain. Under orders of the king, it was his task as the commander and conquistador, to make sure it was carried out efficiently.

_Dios mio... it seems as if he's nothing but a ruffian._ Antonio sighed, and gathered his thoughts. Ideas sparked in his head, one after the other, as he continued to consume the red liquid.

Here was a man who called his own country detestable—why not use it to his advantage? If he could have Arthur Kirkland join his crew, he'd have an addition to his force. He could use this man's skills to good use aboard his ship. On the other hand, he could also go with Lovino's plan and trade this man off for the ransom on his head. But somehow, he knew that Arthur was meant for something much better than that.

Despite his instincts, Antonio unlocked the door and entered it. The metal hinges gave a low, creaking sound, enough to startle the prisoner. If Antonio wanted to get to know this man even a little bit, he had to be at level with him. There was something behind the man's expression that he wanted to know more about- was it pain? Sadness? Defeat? He couldn't tell just yet but it intrigued him at the very least.

"Hey—" Antonio started, as he approached Arthur. "What do you think about joining me? You tell me you hate your country, why not turn against them instead?" He held out his hand to the other, with a sly smile on his face.

Arthur sighed, feeling as though he wanted to cry. He felt his eyes water slightly and a painful throb echo in his hollow chest, his mind flitting to the one other thing that was taken away from him when he let everything crash down. Though he was a pirate, when all was said and done, all he really was, was the shell of a broken man. A man who had gotten his heart ripped out, and thrown out to sea.

Arthur laid down on the hay and watched with a slight furrow in his brow as the Spanish captain followed him in to the cell. _Bloody hell... this man must be an idiot. What's he thinking coming into a cell with another pirate captain whom he just took everything from not a day before? He'll get himself killed one day..._ Arthur fussed, feeling an odd protectiveness in his chest that he hadn't felt in a long while. _It's something about his eyes... That are melting me from the inside out... _

He listened to the other man's words, and despite his inner protests, he found his eyes entranced by the emerald orbs in front of him. _Such a pretty green... I want to... No!_ He shook his head slightly, focusing again. "Why?" He demanded, the other man's proposition sounded like an act of pity, "Just sell me out to my own kind and get it over with. End my pathetic life!" He snapped, rolling over and facing away from the brunette. _I... have no fight left..._ His heart whispered to his mind and he nearly let the tears fall. Without the man's warm eyes, his body was going cold once more and he shivered. He bit his lip. Could he? Could he turn against them? Against... _Alfred_?

He closed his eyes, pain washing over him and racking his small frame. He couldn't deal with this now.

~x~o~x~o~x~o~

Antonio watched as the other man turn his back on him, unable to speak. Though he usually wasn't very receptive of people's emotions, he knew there was something terribly wrong with how this man was acting. There he was—_the_ Captain Kirkland, curled up in the corner of a prison cell telling him to end his life. The same man whom he knew was feared all over the seven seas, and whom he had fought valiantly with just a day before. Looking at him then however, it seemed like he was a totally different person. Despite all the information he had gathered on him during the times he planned his attack, this man before him remained a complete mystery. And at that moment, Antonio decided that he wanted to get to know him—not as the famed pirate that ransacked ports or highjacked ships, or even the man wanted in his own country. He wanted to get to know him simply as Arthur Kirkland, the man underneath all of that.

_If this isn't total defeat, then I don't know what is._ Antonio thought, as he crouched beside Arthur, waiting for him to look back once again.

"You know..." Antonio started, then held Arthur by the shoulder to face him. He stopped a bit, surprised at how Arthur's eyes were glistening under the faint lamplight. He moved his fingers to the back of Arthur's hair, running his fingers through the feathery locks without thinking.

"Your eyes... they remind me of a jewel I once found in one of my early escapades." He laughed, looking up; seemingly trying to recall. "It was huge—almost as large as my palm, and as green as the sea itself. However, I did not keep it." He let go of Arthur's hair, but continued to stare into his eyes, unblinking. "I threw it back into the ocean because I felt that it was where it belonged, you know? I was young at the time, a little stupid. But I've learned. This time around, I know better than to let something so valuable slip through my fingers again."

Arthur froze, shocked at the Spanish man's words. A jolt went through his chest and suddenly, miraculously, he could feel the faint beating of his heart once again. It had been over a year since he'd felt anything aside from a throbbing pain from it. He could always ebb the pain away but getting drunk or ransacking other ports and ships, but nothing ever filled the hollow void inside of him. His expression—he was almost certain—was one of shock and outright disbelief. "V-valuable?" He whispered, his voice feeling somewhat hoarse.

_Valuable._ No one had ever called him that before—not honestly anyhow. He'd been lied to enough, sure, but in reality? It had never happened. Back when he was still an officer he'd make sure everything he did was done to a T. He made sure everything was perfect, and that brought him to the top. At one point in his life, he was the most respected and feared officer to wear a uniform. But in the end, with just one mistake, all his efforts had gone to nothing. Obviously, he was never really valuable enough to be given a second chance. He turned and straightened up, shaking the memories away. He sat face to face with the man, their faces only a foot apart. He was sure he must have looked rather desperate. He reached out slowly and gently placed a hand on the taller captain's chest, barely resting it there. He looked, waiting for the man to take it back; to say that it was all a joke.

Nothing came, however.

Arthur blinked slowly, feeling a loud thrumming in his ears.

_What was happening?_ He didn't know, and his brain had shut off.

_What was he doing?_ He had no control.

_Why was this happening?_ He had no presence of mind to come up with a decent answer himself.

Arthur's thoughts were stopped once he felt his hand being held over the other captain's heart. He couldn't get himself to pull away or say anything to break the silence, however. It was like he was stuck in the moment, hanging onto the silence that filled the air.

"Captain...?"

Arthur watched as Antonio pulled away slightly, while slowly taking a sip from the wine bottle in his hand. Without breaking their gaze, Arthur was pulled into the other's arms; their lips meeting with a sudden kiss. He gave a soft yelp but he soon complied, savoring the taste of the wine being moved into his mouth. He drank thirstily from the other man's mouth, lapping up what little he could. Now that he was drinking the liquid, he realized just how thirsty he was. It had been an entire day after all. His thought shut down as he kissed the Spaniard in front of him, hands moving to grip the fabric on his chest, "Mmm~" He hummed softly, showing he was content like this. He felt desperate for this interaction—this human interaction he'd been missing for so long. He moved one of his hands to tangle in the brunette's hair. The wine seeped through the corners of their mouths, and as quickly as he pulled Arthur in, Antonio let go with a slight smile across his lips.

"C-captain... Carriedo." Arthur pulled back, gasping for air, realizing what had happened. "W-what are you doing?" He scrambles backwards all of the sudden, panic igniting in his eyes. _Oh God. He... he brought me on board to be a whore? What have I gotten myself into? I should have known... the smiles, the wine, the comfort... It was all a bloody ploy to get me to—, BLOODY FUCKING HELL!_ Arthur drew his knees up to his chest, backing away into a defensive position. "Even the lowest of crew wouldn't keep another ship's captain for... for this!" He felt his face flame up at the thought and quickly shook his head.

"Y-you..." He sighed, feeling rather defeated, "Never mind. Just go ahead." Arthur dropped his guard, letting his knees fall away from his chest, leaving himself open and vulnerable. He was done. "Just do me a favor and after you finish, kill me would you?"

"What are you talking about?" The Spanish captain asked, looking taken aback. "Oh, no no no _amigo_..." he said, laughing nervously as he fixed his hat. "You didn't want to share the drink with me, what else was I supposed to do?"

Antonio crouched in front of Arthur, trying to hold his gaze once again. This time, he spoke in a more serious tone, looking straight into Arthur's blank gaze. "I did not kidnap you to be my _puta (whore)_, Captain Kirkland. You and I both know you are worth more than that. Do me a favor and stop selling yourself short."

Before Arthur could even collect his thoughts and give an answer, felt something being draped around him-something _warm_. He slowly opened his eyes and found that Antonio had removed his own trenchcoat, revealing a white sleeved shirt underneath. A beautiful ornamental cross hung from his neck, the pendant resting on his chest.

"You should take this, it's awfully cold tonight." A slight smile curved up the Spaniard's face as he smoothed the coat over Arthur. "I should probably give you time to think about my offer, I don't want to make you feel like you're being forced into something you don't like."

"Tch. It's not like I'd change my—"

"Oh, and another thing, If I really wanted to sleep with you, I wouldn't take you by force—" Antonio continued, as he started to stand up. "...I'd make you fall in love with me, instead." With that, he laughed and took another swig from his bottle.

Arthur blushed profusely, his eyebrows furrowing in both confusion and irritation. "Why?!" He spat out, "Just _why_ would you make me fall in love first? I am a _man, _if you haven't noticed. And on top of that, I'm supposed to be your enemy. Are you a bloody idiot, or is that how all you Spaniards are?" England was truly, genuinely confused. He waited to see if the Spaniard would answer, his eyes looking at the other questioningly. _He can't do this to me. He can't. _Arthur fought the urge to rub his cheek against the fabric of the long, red coat. It really was beautiful, and better taken care of than his own had been. He found himself missing his own, if just a little bit. He thought of his ship, his men—his _dead_ men, possibly drowned at the bottom of the ocean. He choked a little, tears welling up again, another throb going through his chest. _What kind of captain am I? I didn't even think of them and I've been awake for hours! _He wanted to die. Truly, and surely, he really did. He looked up at the other's green eyes, his own frosted over with unshed tears.

"Is there... is there any particular reason?" Arthur mumbled, fighting the blush back.

Instead of a reply, however, Antonio just chuckled and headed out the door. "_Buenas noches_, Arthur." The Spaniard walked away, without saying another word or another glance in Arthur's direction.

_"...bastard."_

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**A/N: So I updated within the day XD (amazing, right?) Although honestly this chapter took me hours as it is more writing than editing for me. I ended up transforming Antonio's actions into England's POV, and I'm planning to keep it like this from now on. I'm so lucky to have such an awesome RP partner though, that I didn't have to edit much of England's dialogue and inner monologues. *sniffle* All my love~! Gosh it ended up so long 8O And yes Antonio isn't a pirate meanie XD If you want someone mean go and read my other fic. But that doesn't mean he's not badass! You haven't seen Snapped!Spain yet. Kesesese~ Any comments/suggestions/violent reactions would be well appreciated XD and I promise to get the next one out as soon as possible~ Gracias, amigo~**


	3. The thin line

**A/N: Sorry for the late, but finally chapter 3 is done! XD I wrote this from scratch since I thought that the story needed a little bit more insight regarding Arthur, Antonio, and even Lovino. I would like to thank everyone who left me reviews; they really inspire me to keep writing, and to help me improve. -sniff- **

* * *

The next morning, Arthur woke to the feel of a rocking boat and the sound of a creaking ship. This was nothing out of the ordinary for the pirate captain; however, the creaking of ship was different. It was louder, but more drawn out unlike the quiet, short creaking he was used to. He quickly opened his eyes and all of a sudden, he remembered exactly where he was.

Arthur grumbled and turned to the side, feeling the soft hay against his skin. Despite spending the entire night in the cold cell, his sleep had been deep and dreamless. It was only when he looked down that he realized that he Spanish captain's coat was still draped over his body.

'_Tsk. It's almost like sleeping with the enemy.'_

He narrowed his eyes and quickly tossed the coat to the side, before resuming his position curled up on the hay. He couldn't seem to resolve why he'd accepted the coat in the first place. It wasn't like he was a stranger to the bitter cold. All of the previous night's events came flooding into his consciousness, and he slowly sifted through them, starting with Captain Carriedo's offer to join the Spanish crew.

'_As if. Does he think I'm so desperate that I'd join his band of merry men at the drop of a hat? I may have been a ruffian when he caught me, but that doesn't mean I have no honor left. He destroyed everything I had. I… I can't forgive him for that.'_

He closed his eyes and felt an ache in his chest once again, seizing him like a hand had grasped his heart. It wasn't the first time he'd lost everything, so he thought he might as well be used to it by now. But it was inevitable. Remembering the previous night's battle—how hard he'd fought, and how quickly and easily he and his crew was overpowered made him feel sick. He used to be among the best of the British military. He worked hard every day and night, doing everything by the book. He was supposed to be prepared for the worst. Unbeatable. Unpredictable. But with his swordfight against Captain Carriedo alone made him doubt all of the things he once had given himself credit for. And his men—though he'd never gotten close and personal with any of them, and he hadn't treated them as well as he knew he should have, it still hurt to think that he let them down. For all he knew, they were now all 20,000 leagues under the ship he so comfortably spent the night in.

He groaned and sat up, shielding his eyes with his hand. Sunlight poured through a window on the side of the boat and he felt like a caged bird. He walked to the bars and grabbed one, his fingers fully wrapped around the metal.

'_Cold.'_

A chill ran up his arm and he stood there unmoving, looking out onto the horizon. He was surprised that no one had gone to his cell yet to rough him up like he and his crew used to do with his own prisoners. Then again, he rarely took prisoners. No one escaped from the dreaded Pirate Captain Kirkland alive.

Which brought him once again to thinking, why on earth he_ was_ still alive. There were so many times the Spanish captain could have killed him: on deck during their battle, while he was knocked unconscious, and during his visit to the cell the previous night. Although he guessed it made sense, since the captain needed him for something. He was probably going to be killed _after _he refused the captain's offer, but nevertheless, he had made up his mind. There was no way he was joining the other side, for so many reasons he couldn't even number.

What he found really odd though was that he was untouched. Unhurt, aside from the injuries he had sustained from their duel. If anything, he was being treated with hospitality; something he found completely absurd.

The Brit lowered his gaze and the image of the Spaniard flashed in his mind. He remembered how Carriedo had waltzed past the bars, talked to him about his arrangement, even OFFERED him wine for crying out loud, and—

"And…" Arthur murmured softly as he put his hand onto his lips, feeling the chapped skin against his fingertips. Heat quickly filled his cheeks; his eyes wide open from the recollection.

"No!"

The Brit drew his fist back and hit the wall in front of him as hard as he could, his fist making a loud impact on the hard surface. A wave of shame flooded his entire body upon realizing that he still remembered how the other's lips felt against his. He could still somehow taste the wine and feel the warm liquid flowing from the other's mouth into his own. Granted he was thirsty, but that was no excuse.

'_He's probably laughing at me now. That was meant as an insult, and—the fool I am—instead of pushing him away the very instant I'd felt it, I stood there and did absolutely nothing!'_

How he allowed such a thing to happen was beyond him, and anger quickly consumed every fiber of his body.

He felt pathetic more than ever.

"Tch, and that rubbish about making me fall in love. Who does he think I am?"

With his teeth clenched, he drew his fist back once again and began pelting the wood with hard punches, alternating each side. He channeled all his subdued emotions into each blow, the rush numbing him from the pain.

"BLOODY—!"

"FUCKING—!"

"HELL!"

"ADDING—!"

"INSULT—!"

"TO INJURY!"

His lungs burned with exhaustion and the skin of his knuckles was raw from the repeated impact. He couldn't find it in him to stop, as he forced all the shame out of his being into his attack.

"Not so strong now—"

"ARE YOU—"

"CARRIEDO?!"

With one last blow, he rested his head against the wood, his entire body trembling. Despite the pain in his hands and all over his arms, he felt better. He slowly turned around with his back against the wall, when his eyes met another pair from the other side of the railings,

Someone had been watching his embarrassing display.

_SPLAT!_

His already-stained shirt was once again hit with the same flying projectile; the red juice spilling all the way down to his trousers.

'_This is going to be a long day.'_

~x~o~x~o~x~o~

Antonio lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling as he woke up the next day. He hadn't gotten a very good night's sleep, and on top of that he had a bit of a hangover from all the wine he consumed. He put the pillow over his head, trying to fall back into his slumber. It was still early-as if it seemed everything was quiet on deck, and the rays of light that penetrated his windowsill were the ones of daybreak. The events from the previous night were fresh from his mind, and above all, he couldn't get the thought of those green eyes out of his mind.

"Ah dios!" The captain sat up on his bed with a start, rubbing his eyes and tousling his hair with his hands. He didn't want to admit it but somehow, he was anxious over the other's acceptance to his offer. If he did, Antonio was sure that he was going to not only be an addition to his manpower, but an added strategist as well. With two heads working as one, he was pretty sure things would be easier. However, he wasn't banking on it entirely. After all, joining him would mean a betrayal to Arthur's own country.

Antonio stepped out of the captain's cabin, wearing nothing but the clothes he slept in. He rubbed his arms, warming them and looked to the horizon by himself. The sea was calm, and the air was filled with nothing but the sound of the waves softly hitting the sides of his ship.

He knew that once he started the attack on England, moments like those were going to be scarce. So he took the liberty to enjoy it while he could, watching the sun slowly stain the surface a beautiful orange hue.

~x~o~x~o~x~o~

"It's you again!" Arthur's voice was filled with venom as he quickly launched himself to the bars, trying to grab the Italian who was bent over in laughter. All the anger he had let go quickly came back, and he wanted nothing but to grab the little boy and teach him a lesson. But alas, the other had learned and stayed a good meter away from the cell, clearly out of reach from the Brit.

"What were you doing, eyebrow bastard, huh? Was the wall fighting with you? Pffft—!" The cabin boy continued to laugh, slapping his knee and wheezing as he looked up at the caged captain through teary eyes. "I knew you were an _idiota _but no one can be as stupid as to fight something that can't even fight back. Or was that the only way you could win?"

"S-shut up!" Arthur screamed at the top of his lungs, his green eyes smoldering with rage. "Don't you have better things to do than to mingle with prisoners this early in the morning, boy?"

"I do, but captain's orders. I was asked to bring you breakfast. Don't you British have breakfast? No wonder you're fucking skinny to be a captain."

"Tch. You're one to talk."

"Or maybe your food is so shitty that you choose not to eat breakfast. I heard that British food is so bad you could get poiso—"

Arthur groaned. "If you're quite done now, why don't you just do what you were supposed to do and ever so kindly LEAVE?"

"Or what? You'll beat me up like you beat up that wall over there?" The Italian blinked and looked down at the red mush on the wooden floor. "By the way, that tomato was part of your breakfast."

"I give up."

Arthur threw his hands in the air and turned around, going back to the corner of his cell. He plopped back down onto they hay, muttering to himself. "Humiliated by the captain, insulted by the cabin boy… tch. Can a life of any pirate get any worse?"

He turned to his side and glared at the Italian who was slipping the rest of his "breakfast" through the bars. He guessed he was in no position to complain though, for the mere fact that he was actually being given something to eat and drink was nothing short of a blessing. After all, nearly a day without taking anything in (save for the wine the previous night, which he tried to erase from his every inch of his memory) he was famished, and the thought of something to fill his stomach was enough to make him feel even a little bit better.

"Hey, what's that?" The Italian's gaze shifted to a pile of red cloth beside the Brit's hay bunk, immediately recognizing it. "Isn't that the tomato bastard's coat?"

Arthur looked down and saw the crumpled coat he tossed aside, and sat back up.

"Oh, right."

He picked it up and got to his feet, slowly making his way to the bars. "Would you give this back to your captain? I have no need for it." He extended his arm through the bars, handing the coat to the Italian. He nearly asked the other to give his thanks, but quickly reconsidered it. Why on earth should he give the captain who captured him any of his thanks?

The Italian got the coat and looked at it, glaring at Arthur suspiciously. "How the fuck did this end up in your cell? Did you take this from him when he was dead-ass drunk? Or, don't tell me. Did the idiot actually walk into your cell last night?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, he did. Now, just return it to him before he starts looking for it. I'm not sure he even meant to leave it with me, or like you said, he was just "dead-ass drunk." "

"_Che idiota! Quel bastardo di pomodoro, cazzo! (That idiot! Stupid fucking tomato bastard!)"_ The Italian grabbed the coat and dusted it as if spending the night in the cell had soiled it completely. He frowned and hung the coat in his arm, sighing in exasperation. "Sometimes I wonder why that idiot is still alive."

"That makes two of us."

"Why don't you go and worry about your OWN life, ugly-thick-eyebrow-bastard?!" The cabin boy snapped angrily, pushing himself closer against the bars. "I did some snooping last night and I found out the truth about your duel with the captain. If he wasn't such a big tomato-headed idiot you would've been dead by now."

"The truth? Ha! I've known that the very fact I am still alive is a fluke, the moment I woke up in this godforsaken cell. Tell me something I didn't already know."

"No, what I mean is you should've been dead during that swordfight. Apparently, he ordered one of his men to knock you out when things were beginning to get ugly."

"So he _didn't _fight fairly! I knew it; that blow couldn't have been any random occurrence. We were fighting and all of a sudden—"

"Will you shut up and listen first, _stupido?_" The Italian cut him off, frowning hard. "He asked that man to do that to keep _you _from getting killed. He knew that if you'd gone on fighting that you wouldn't give up, and in turn he'd be forced to kill your sorry ass. And apparently—I don't know what-the-fuck he's thinking—but he has some real important use for you."

Arthur fell silent and thought hard about the fight. Everything happened so fast.

Thinking back to the duel however, the Spanish captain could have killed him during the first few moments. The other's movements were quick and powerful; and it was probably only his pride and desperation that was telling him that he stood a chance. After recalling the entire thing, he realized otherwise.

He should have been dead.

"People can say whatever they want about that tomato-headed bastard but one thing no one can deny is that he's very good with a sword. I haven't seen anyone come close to how good he is and I haven't even been on this ship for long." The Italian stroked the coat with his fingers, keeping his eyes down as if he were deep in thought. Arthur couldn't help but be curious about the relationship between the Italian and the Spanish captain. It almost seemed like he was an adopted younger brother of sorts. It was odd enough that he was an Italian aboard a Spanish ship, but the moment he saw the two together, he knew they were somehow close.

"Say boy—"

"Stop calling me boy!"

Arthur groaned and was tempted to call him "wench" instead, but thought otherwise. If he was going to get anything from the boy, he had to at least get on his good side. "Fine, then. I assume even pets like you have a name. Spit it out."

"I am not a pet for-your-fucking-information and the name is Lovino Vargas. But that's Mister Lovino Vargas to you."

"Well alright, fair enough. _Mister _Lovino Vargas, I couldn't help but notice you weren't exactly… Spanish. You are Italian, am I correct?"

"Si. I'm glad you noticed."

"Heh. I was just wondering what you were doing aboard this Spanish ship. I haven't seen any other Italians around, and you seem awfully young to be joining something as potentially violent as an attack to a foreign country. Something you shouldn't even be involved in."

Lovino looked up at Arthur sheepishly, fidgeting with his hands.

"So?"

"I… owe my life to the tomato bastard." He shrugged. That's why I'm here."

"Owe your life? Were you some damsel-in-distress and he went around saving you from a band of bloody pirates or thieves?" Arthur scoffed at the idea. Then again, keeping the two in mind, it wasn't much of a stretch.

"Damsel-in-distress-my-ass; it wasn't like that! I… I used to be a thief. One time this stinking boat docked in Italia and I climbed aboard, hoping to find something to bring home. But the stupid Spaniards built this boat to be so big and fucking complicated that I got lost, and it left Italia before I could ever get out. And then one day, the captain found me hiding in one of the storeroom barrels—hungry almost half to death. When I saw him, I thought I was done for."

Arthur listened to the boy's story intently, as the memory of the first time he encountered thieves in his own pirate ship came to mind. He still remembered how he found two men in his own storeroom; how they begged for their lives, telling him they were starving and needed food to bring home to their families. And most of all, he remembered how he quickly drew his sword, slitting their throats clean in half. The image of the blood spurting from their necks was still fresh in his mind, as it was the same fate all the other thieves that followed were subjected to.

"… but instead, the idiot brought me on deck and fed me and asked me if I wanted to join him as a cabin boy or something like that. That man is fucking crazy!"

Arthur was silent for a while, trying to take in all of what the boy had said. He was almost happy that the boy didn't make the mistake of hopping aboard _his _ship, otherwise he obviously wouldn't be there to tell the story. As annoying as the boy was, it made him sick imagining him with a slit throat and a lifeless body—as he would have been, under his own hands.

"Crazy is a bit of an understatement if you ask me. What kind of captain takes in thieves with such mercy? There's a thin line between mercy and utter stupidity, and he sounds like he had crossed it a million times over. For him to take in someone as annoying as _you, _he must have the patience of a saint."

"Ehh. What can you do? No one can resist the Italian charm." Lovino chuckled. "But really, that's why sometimes I feel like I need to watch out for that stupid bastard. He's supposedly so high up in the ranks back in his country, but sometimes he doesn't act like it."

"I'm glad to know I wasn't the only one who thought that of him."

"As stupid as he is sometimes, he's not a bad guy. So… so don't even think about hurting him, _capische?_ Or you'll be answering to me." Lovino raised his eyebrow, glaring at Arthur with a deadly seriousness. Arthur couldn't help but laugh.

"You're telling _me _that? How can I possibly hurt him when I'm caged like an animal over here? Don't get me wrong; I would if I could. But I can't, in this compromised situation that I am in."

"I heard he was asking you to join him. Or us. Whatever. Chigi! I don't trust you and I never will, so I'm hoping that bastard opens his eyes and reconsiders."

"Don't worry, he doesn't need to. I have no plans on joining you and your merry crew. I'm done."

The former captain smiled sadly, bending over to take a peek at his "breakfast." All that talk was making him hungry, and he might as well eat something—even if it were to be his last meal. Though it hurt him to actually admit it, he was glad to be able to eat something that wasn't English food. If the annoying Italian was right about one thing, it was probably that.

"So tell me, is there anything else I need to know about that captain of yours? He seems like quite the character…" He added, as he looked through the basket that was given to him. In it was a jug of milk and a half-eaten meat pie. It didn't take a genius to imagine why that was. The cabin boy must've eaten it on the way down.

"I know a lot of things about the tomato bastard, but why should I tell you?" Lovino answered grumpily. "One thing that I find hard to believe though is that according to the other men on his ship, he's a heart-breaker on land. Making women cry and shit."

"Well thank you for that bit of information; I'll make sure to keep that in mind the next time I grow _breasts _and lose whatever manhood I have left." Arthur rolled his eyes and took a bite off his pie. He didn't think it was that surprising, though. The man knew what he was doing last night, that was for sure. But he had no plans of telling Lovino that, as he forced the memory from his mind once again. "Don't you have anything that's actually useful?"

"Well, I heard he was the son of the last right-hand man of the Duke of Medina Sedonia… or whatever that bastard's name is. His father died, and he ended up taking the responsibility. But…" Lovino looked around and leaned in even closer, lowering his voice. "I've heard some people say he wasn't always like the way he is now, either. Apparently, he's done some shit and Spain took great lengths to try and cover it up. Ehh, I don't really know. Rumors are rumors."

Arthur wouldn't admit it, but having Lovino to talk to wasn't actually as bad as he would've thought. He didn't realize how much he had missed casual talking. After all, in that one conversation alone he knew a lot more about the mysterious captain at the very least. A dark past? It wasn't like everyone didn't have one. But he knew he wasn't going to stick around to find out. His mind was still made up. He wasn't joining them, or at least, not over his dead body.

When the Italian talked about how Captain Carriedo was like though, he was almost convinced that maybe, it wouldn't be such a bad idea. But the fact that he _was _merciful, made him all the more dangerous in England's eyes. It was kindness and compassion that got to him the last time, and wasn't about to make the same mistake again.

Then again he had learned, and it wasn't such a big concern. Who was he kidding? The truth was, joining wouldn't have been that big of a problem— had his love not been part of the British army.

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**A/N: And, that's it! It's a little bit dialogue-heavy but I hope you guys enjoyed it :3 Things will pick up in the next chapter, so stay tuned. Reviews are highly appreciated (or you can send me messages and tell me what you think) so that I know what I need to improve, or if you guys are liking it so far. I don't know why, but I enjoy writing the exchanges between England and Romano. They're like little kids. XD**


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